Day 75: One of Shanty’s Ends

Thickening the plot remains elusive to me. After I practice writing I must learn to practice thickening. Even a runny plot would be better than what I regularly mix up.

If you take the time to read any of what I have written–here or elsewhere–you would likely discover that I dabble in images. The very brief element of a scene is something I feel I am good at generating. In addition to setting the scene, I like to think I am able to allude to a direction, to a conflict. Regardless of your appreciation of my abilities to do that, I have that impression. The thing is, I don’t have a plot or even a plan. I just have a finite moment or two. What I need is a next.

I’ve heard more than a few authors like to determine the beginning and end and then work out the middles. I have tried that once and still not gotten the middle worked out. Mathematician’s would argue once is not statistically valid–possibly it’s worth another shot.

What I have in my head while I am writing is this thing with Shanty. I’ve ended up with three scenes pointed squarely at a single destination. I think it’s clear that destination isn’t the end of the story, just the site of the initial physical conflict. I like these scenes and I am enjoying the characters thus far. I don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let them down by composing crap nor by not composing anything at all. Each of the three began as a simple but concrete point of view effort to describe Shanty. There was no intention. Maybe I could just try the same technique on the ending…

Tritti held nothing more dead Johnka’s belt knife. She held no doubt that she would next kill the Killer.

Gane’s enormous hres finally paid off with the location of his sister. Behind this door.

You tug at your shackles. You pray that when they chronicle your journey that they leave this next embarrassing part out then fear for your immediate death overwhelms you.

The young witch resolves from the darkness with only that knife as a weapon. She imbues it and throws. No matter how you move or jerk or turn away it will find you heart. Gane opens the door, sees the knife, and shields you in time.

“Brother!”

Let’s see if we can put that to some use.

I should probably look into what comprises a good paragraph before I spend too much time composing any. It’s doubtful I’ll discover anything I don’t already know about well written paragraphs, but I imagine the effort will beneficially remind me what I already know. Not doing so perpetuates bad habits.